


No Business

by FULLONZOMBIE



Category: None - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-30
Updated: 2019-12-30
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:29:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22034848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FULLONZOMBIE/pseuds/FULLONZOMBIE
Summary: A man and a woman reconnect after sixteen years.
Relationships: Original Female Character/Original Male Character
Kudos: 1





	No Business

She was aware of him standing behind her. 

You know the feeling. You see someone and for some inexplicable reason, your eyes are drawn to them. You're constantly aware of where they are in the room. Or on the walking tour of a foreign city, as it were. She was also aware of his eyes, which seemed to be on her just as often. Not that she would ever bring herself to make eye contact. But when she looked somewhere above or behind him, she saw his eyes. 

She had no business being aware of any of this.

She wondered if it was a coincidence that he had started being near her so often on these tours. People mill around, looking at different things. But after a few days of these tours, he was always near her. Close behind her. Next to her. Directly in front of her. She wondered if he was as acutely aware of her behind him as she was when it was reversed. 

She started purposefully milling about, from one side of the group to the far side. From the back end to the front. And he was within twenty feet of her, every time. 

From day one she felt his eyes on her from the opposite end of the dinner table. Eleven of them were there, he had plenty of people to look at. Every time she glanced around, there were those eyes. Did he catch her eyes from his periphery too?

He had no business putting his eyes on her. It didn't matter that they had been on opposite sides of the country for their entire lives. It didn't matter that they had been estranged for sixteen years. 

She never really made eye contact with anyone in her daily life. But this man and her, they had no business being aware of each other's location or each other's eyes. And when, on day two, they established a habit of sitting next to each other, she had no business feeling the gentle warmth radiating from his right arm. When they finally spoke to each other the next day, she had no business focusing her ears on his every word. They had no business observing with their eyes everything sixteen years had done to their appearances and no business absorbing with their ears everything sixteen years had done to their lives.

When he gestured for her to sit next to him on the tour bus, she had no business falling asleep on his left shoulder an hour later.

When she woke up she once again felt his eyes on hers, watching them open. She wondered how long he'd been watching her sleeping face. She felt his lips on the top of her head. Chaste, friendly. Nothing more of course. The observation, the conversation, the proximity, the growing familiarity, that was the sixteen years and hundreds of miles of space begging to be made up for. 

He lifted his free hand and moved some of her hair back from her face. She felt his fingers barely brush her cheek, behind her ear, down her jaw to her chin. And she stopped wondering anything at all when he lifted her face from his shoulder and pressed his lips to hers. Firm but gentle, almost sweet. He tasted like beer and vanilla ice cream.

His lips had no business being there. And his fingers had no business inching up her leg. Under her skirt. Moving her panties aside. One of those fingers slid into her, tantalizingly slow and all too easy. And she heard him murmur, "woah," so soft it was almost imperceptible, right against her mouth. Perhaps it was the heat his fingers were now enveloped in. Perhaps it was just how readily that finger was accepted, almost drenching his finger as he inched his way in up to the knuckle. But most likely, it was that she was tight enough to barely fit one finger.

He slowly slid that warm wet finger out, leaving just the tip inside of her. His thumb began to circle her clit as he pushed that finger back in. And she had no choice but to be silent, lest others become wise to the activities in the back row.

He removed the finger, cleaned it off in his mouth, and put it right back inside her. And the thumb circled, and the next finger joined the first. And pleasure erupted. She inhaled as slowly as she could. She exhaled on his ear and found his earlobe with her teeth. 

She found his unsurprisingly hard cock with her right hand. That hand then found his waistband. The head of his cock. The shaft. And his inhale was almost slow and controlled. 

Nearly convincing, if she hadn't had his hard, throbbing cock in her hand. 

She slid her hand up, massaging that extra sensitive place just below the head. His fingers moved in, out, and again, his thumb circling ever faster, and the head of his cock released just the smallest amount of moisture in her palm. She rocked her hips gently against the heel of his hand, careful to preserve the silence. In and out, again and again, until something exploded inside her with excruciating pleasure, and a very similar something exploded into her hand and up her arm. She glanced at his face, and saw all the color had drained from it, eyes as wide open as an owl's. He sighed, then remembered the silence, and faked a yawn. She smiled to herself, maintaining her no-eye-contact policy, and they withdrew their hands.

No business. No business at all.


End file.
